Of Ice and Flame
by TouchedByDarkness
Summary: Frostbite, Blizzard, and Cold Front lead a team of greenshirts in an action packed artic mission.
1. Default Chapter

Of Ice and Flame

By TouchedByDarkness

"What the hell was that?" yelled Frostbite into the comm. mic. The ground shook as the after effect of an explosion rocked his Snow Cat.

The answer was, of course, obvious. Snow, dirt, and small rocks fell in a hail all over the armored skin of the white vehicle. Checking his monitors, Private Benson cried out, "We lost Willis, sir."

Frostbite swore. The troopers riding on the outside of the Snow Cat did not have the protection of the armor, and as such were in greater risk. Cold Front, driver of the lead Avalanche, crackled over the comm. channel as he spoke. "We have an ambush situation here Frostbite. Opposition heavier then expected. Avalanche 3 down, looks like the crew didn't make it. Avalanche 2 is smoking pretty heavily, not sure how long she will last."

That left only two Avalanches left in full operating condition, as well as Frostbite's three Snow Cats.

"Sir, I thought this was supposed to be an easy run," grumbled Pvt. Benson.

"When it comes to Cobra Benson, nothing is ever easy."

Benson was right though. During the briefing everything was outlined as a pretty simple and straightforward mission. Cobra had secretly been financing an artic research station somewhere in the northern expanses. The reason for the facilities existence was unknown, but according to the reports it filed it was dedicated to the development of an antipsychotic medicine. No one questioned it until it was slipped that one of the primary backers was Arbco, a business front for Cobra. Upon further investigation, many damning inconsistencies were found.

The secret facility was thought to be relatively undefended. The only reason that four Avalanches and three Snow Cats were dispatched to the sight was that they were in the area doing training maneuvers. Blizzard was working with the new recruits, weeding out the ones that couldn't take the cold weather and the unforgivingness of the terrain and of Blizzard. The call came in for a small squad to go check out the station, and led by Blizzard himself, they set out four days ago. They had not been heard from since.

Another explosion rocked the Snow Cat as it charged across the frozen terrain. The last of the trees were starting to give way to the open spaces of the plains. Just as Frostbite, in the lead Snow Cat, burst from the tree line, another explosion engulfed the already wounded Avalanche. "Where the hell is that fire coming from?" shouted Cold Front into the comm. mic. Frostbite started to reply, but the comm. channel was instead filled with the anguished screaming of the men of Avalanche 2. Benson blanched, color draining from his face. Frostbite just clamped his jaws shut tightly and swerved around the smoking ruin that was both the tomb and pyre for those five men. Suddenly the voice of the driver of Snow Cat 2 blasted over the comm.

"I see hostiles coming from the woods north by north-west. So far there are six Wolfs and three Ice Sabers. Shit, they are firing at me. Two missiles. Brace yourself for evasive maneuvers. Fuc..." the comm. went dead with the screech of static.

"Attention all remaining tack force. Concentrate fire at incoming hostiles." Cold Front's voice was clinched from fury at the death of his fellow Joes. Fire started pouring out of the remaining two Avalanches, a deadly rain of scorching metal and flying death. The turret on Frostbite's Snow Cat turned toward the oncoming enemy and fired two of its four missiles. The missiles spiraled and connected with the lead Wolf, and it went up in an orange and red blossom of fire. Slamming on the accelerator, Frostbite sped past a ski missile just before it could detonate on the rear treads of the Snow Cat. The missile remote detonated only a few feet from the fast moving armored vehicle, nearly blowing loose the remaining three men holding on for dear life on the back of the Snow Cat.

Benson targeted an Ice Saber as it turned to take aim on Avalanche 1. The cannons that replaced the out of date ski missiles boiled the ice that had formed on the barrels in a blast the shot forth and just grazed the rear tread, causing it to careen out of control and roll over several times. A missile from its back rack blew, sending the vehicle and it's passengers in many different directions, and all in pieces.

Snow Cat 3 took an abrupt turn, going a little too sharp to the left. Two of the troopers went flying, landing in the soft snow and rolling to their feet. The Cat ran forward, intent on the Wolf that was closing on Avalanche 1. However, the driver didn't notice another Ice Saber drawing a bead on it. With a burst of flame, the cannons lit up and nailed the Snow Cat right behind the canopy, blowing the glass off in a burst of fire. Secondary explosions ripped through the engine and blew the armor off the vehicle in a burst of hot metal and flame, roasting all the troopers as they leapt from the vehicle. Scorched remains of the Snow Cat and the people manning it fell about the battle field in a grotesque rain. Frostbite cursed bitterly, the names of the four men that just died burning into his memory as four more reasons that the GI Joe team had to defeat Cobra, and soon.

Two Wolfs veered off toward the Joes that were thrown free of Snow Cat 3. Instead of wasting their missiles or cannon ammo, the two Snow Serpents on the back of each Wolf started pouring in small arms fire. The Joes ran for the cover of the still burning husk of Snow Cat 3 in desperation. Frostbite turned back toward them with the intention of trying to pick them up. The three troopers on the back of Snow Cat 1 opened fire at the charging Wolfs. One Serpent went down, but the other three kept firing mercilessly. Behind them another Wolf exploded, compliments of Avalanche 4. One Joe went down, taking a shot through the chest, dead before he hit the ground. The other trooper stopped to pick his fellow back up, and in reward for his bravery and dedication, took three shots, each one fatal.

"Those dirty fuckers!" Benson swore. Using the controls, he fired the cannons again, connecting with a Wolf solidly in the front missile rack. The Ice Viper driver was vaporized, and the two Snow Serpents were blown to pieces.   
Frostbite tried to raise Cold Front on the comm. to suggest a retreat, but no one answered. Cursing, Frostbite opened a comm. channel and ordered a retreat back toward the woods. Only the driver of Avalanche 3 responded with a "yes sir."   
Both of the armored vehicles turned tail and ran at full speed back toward the forest. The Snow Cat was somewhat faster then the Avalanche and started to pull ahead a little. Easing off the throttle, Frostbite slowed down to match the speed of the larger tank.

"Sir, you have got to get out of here. Those Cobra bastards are right on our tail." The crew of the Avalanche, the driver and the backup gunner in the Scout Craft, both urged Frostbite to get him and his crew far enough away. Two Wolfs and one Ice Saber were hot on their tail. The Wolfs, being the slowest of the vehicles on the field started to fall a little behind, but the Ice Saber gained ground rapidly. A Snow Serpent rode on the side of the Ice Saber, peppering the tail end of the Avalanche with small arms fire. The cannons took aim, and a blast of fury impacted the back of the Avalanche.   
Grimly, the backup gunner in the Scout Craft turned the mine launcher around and fired the last remaining mine at the tailing Ice Saber. It sailed wide and skipped on the snow several times before being hit by the front ski of one of the Wolfs and blowing the ski and a good part of the Wolf into shrapnel. Cursing with anger, the gunner flipped a switch and the controls of the Scout Craft lit up. "Prepare for break away," he said.   
Frostbite cursed again. He ordered the pilot not to launch, but knowing that there was no other way for the rest of the team to escape pursuit, he launched into the air. The Craft moved ahead of the Avalanche, and at first Frostbite thought that the Joe meant to flee the battle. Somehow he couldn't blame the man. But, instead of fleeing, he turned the Craft around and targeted the Ice Saber with the Craft's light missiles. With a slight jar, the missiles fired and streaked into the air and back down. Before impact, the Craft took a cannon shot in the belly. Fire burst from the Craft and it started to loose altitude quickly. One of the light missiles connected with the Ice Saber, knocking it into a looping crash that ended in a fireball. The Scout Craft veered out of control and vanished into the woodland. Seconds later, smoke could be seen.

The tailing Avalanche started bleeding fire from its exhaust vents. One fire blew some armor off the side, and the tank started a turn and skidded sideways for a moment. Before the driver could even try to regain control of the ailing vehicle, a barrage of cannon fire and two missiles connected with its side. Even in the cockpit of the Snow Cat, Frostbite could hear the explosion.

After the destruction of the Ice Saber, the remaining Wolf turned away and started heading back the way it came. Frostbite continued into the wilderness for almost an hour, and then pulled behind the cover of a fallen tree and the snow that created a mound about it. The engine of the Snow Cat had started to make a lot more noise then it should have, and excess smoke was shot out of the exhaust ports. When the Snow Cat came to a halt, the engine misfired when Frostbite killed the ignition. Taking a deep breath, Frostbite looked over at Benson. He was ashen and shaking a little. "Benson," started Frostbite, but he didn't get a response. Sighing deeply, and remembering his first taste of action, Frostbite popped the latch and the canopy rose. A burst of cold air rushed in, almost turning the sweat on his face to ice. The cold air made Benson stir and he looked over at Frostbite.

Frostbite took a deep breath and nodded slightly. That subtle acknowledgment stiffened Bensons resolve to be strong in battle, and he nodded back. They both then exited the Snow Cat and Frostbite started to assess the damage to the vehicle. It was not hurt badly, but it would take some work. The armor was scorched and the engine sounded like it was missing in one of the pistons. Also, there was some damage to the control module that moved the top mounted missile turret. That was all the damage to the front half of the vehicle. When the troopers that were riding on the back of the Snow Cat jumped down, each called off their name and fighting status.

"Private Hodges, combat ready."   
"Private Jackson, combat ready."   
"Private Dawson, combat ready."

Private Willis, the fourth rider, was lost in the initial stages of the ambush. The men started to chatter for a moment, and walked toward the front of the Snow Cat. Frostbite did not mind the lapse in discipline. After all, after the adrenaline wears off, the only comfort for those that have lost friends is the presence of other friends. They walked evenly around to the back of the Cat, also checking for obvious damage. However, all chatter stopped abruptly. Curious, Frostbite walked around the Cat and saw the men staring intently at the side of the vehicle. Instantly Frostbite knew what the men were staring at. At that moment, Benson stopped by his fellows, started to ask what was wrong when he saw exactly what stopped the men in their conversation. Frostbite saw it too.

Smeared along the back side of the Snow Cat were the charred remains of Willis. It was almost perceivable as human remains, flesh torn into chunks and singed around the edges. Also, several pieces of shrapnel were lodged into the corpse, showing a shiny glint among the darkened black and red. Frostbite had seen death like this before, but the new recruits had not. As always, it hurt to see a living, breathing person reduced to so much smoking remains. However, that is one of the faces of war.

Taking a deep breath, Frostbite ordered the men to clean off the corpse and to bury it somewhere under the snow. The ground was far too hard this far north, but the body couldn't be left out. For one, it would attract scavengers and for another, Willis deserved some kind of dignified burial.   
The men didn't move, just stared at the cooling remains. "Now!" Frostbite barked. The troopers jumped. "Benson, stay with me. We need to get the Cat running as soon as we can. I don't know if we can still go through with the mission, but having the Cat running and battle ready will certainly increase our chances of survival. You certified? No? Damn. Oh well, just do exactly as I say and don't touch anything that I tell you not to. Come on."

Dawson muttered something and pulled his field pack off, retrieving his shovel and he stalked into the woods quickly. Jackson and Hodges looked at each other and tried not to shudder. With mechanical movements, they started the process of removing the remains.

Frostbite went to the storage compartment right behind the now closed canopy and lifted up the cover. He removed the tool kit and closed the door, latching it securely. Handing the tool kit to Benson, Frostbite lay down and slid himself under the Snow Cat, cursing at the damage.

An hour later, the three troopers returned, grim faced and shivering. A snow storm was brewing, and by the looks of the clouds, it was going to be a nasty one. Putting the tools away after wiping the off, Frostbite looked to the sky. Tiny flakes were starting to float down lazily. 'This is not good' Frostbite thought. However, he knew that it would be a mixed blessing because it would blanket the earth with new snow and erase his tracks completely. It would also however, make the next several hours quite difficult.

"Alright guys, think back to your training. We have a white shit storm coming our way fast." That was all he had to say. All four of the other Joes started to dig out a section of the snow, packing it into sloped walls that stood almost four feet up. The back of the small sides rested against the Snow Cat. Each man carried two tent stakes, and attaching the stakes end to end dug then about two inches into the ground, running in a line front to back. Then, using the attachment ties connects all the parts of their separate tents into a large square. Frostbite took out his tent material, removed his knife, and cut the fabric in half. He then attached each half section to the front of the small enclosure to serve as a front.

By the time the shelter was finished, the snow was pouring down and visibility was nearly zero. Frostbite set watch, starting the first watch while he ordered the men to eat sparingly from their rations and to get some sleep.

Absently, he chewed on some of the dry meat that was part of his rations. For this mission, they had chosen not to carry the standard MREs, and instead chose smaller portions that had no preparatory time. Dried meat, a hardtack like bread sealed in plastic, and water from the small plastic canteen that each soldier carried inside their winter gear to keep it from freezing in the harsh northern climate. While eating, he reflected on the mission and missions past. Many a good soldier had died that day, and many more in the fight against Cobra. It would be a great day when the organization of evil and corruption fell, and with luck and tenacity, Frostbite would be there to see it come down.

Frostbite again looked into the scope of his weapon, the only weapon equipped with the ability to nearly pierce the white wall that surrounded them. The other troopers carried more standard issue weapons, superior in design and performance then the modified assault rifle, but this was a weapon that Frostbite had carried since his induction to the Joe team way back in '85. It was accurate, had rock solid reliability, and could handle the freezing cold weather without a single jam or misfire. He wouldn't trade it for anything.

Benson rose into a kneeling position, slowly working his way toward the front of the makeshift tent to where Frostbite held watch. The snow had begun to pile up in front of the white fabric, only aiding in the camouflage of the Snow Cat and the troopers it helped to shield. Frostbite looked over at Benson when he sat down next to him. Benson smiled lightly. "It's your turn to catch some shuteye sir," Benson said. Frostbite nodded. Indeed he was quite weary after the fight and the flight.

Frostbite handed over the rifle to Benson, nodded once, and said, "Wake me at the first sight of anything out of the ordinary. Do not fire unless fired upon, and only then after waking us all. Be silent, and move as little as possible. Most importantly, flex your muscles every few minutes to keep them from stiffening up in the cold." Benson smiled and nodded politely. The orders were of course familiar, anyone who had survived Blizzard's Artic survival camp knew them by heart.   
Frostbite grinned, knowing that each one of these men knew their duty, and would do it without hesitation or doubt. He then moved back from the opening, taking his place among the other men. With his last thoughts before sleep claimed him, he thanked the men that had fallen that day, and added them to the list of great men that he had known.

It was several hours later when Hodges woke everyone with a quietly spoken word. Frostbite slowly and with all deliberate quietness moved to the front of the tent. Hodges handed him the assault rifle and Frostbite peered through the sights. It appeared that a huge bear was slowly moving their way, weaving through the trees. Of course, the constant wall of white snow obscured the view, but something was strange about the movements the bear was making. Its walk was uneven, leaning strangely. Also, it would take an even six paces, and then look around slowly. What was even odder was the fact that the beast was even out in the storm. In normal circumstances such a beast would be sheltering from the storm in some cave or pine bough. Suddenly Frostbite smiled.

"Hodges, can you tell me what is wrong with that bear?" asked Frostbite, handing over the rifle. Hodges looked carefully into the sight, his face clinched in thought.

"It appears to step somewhat clumsily with its front feet. Also, it takes only six steps before looking around again. It is too lean, even the hard winter here would not make it so trim. And it is short for its length." He looked over to Frostbite, still somewhat confused. Frostbite nodded, his teeth showing from behind his black beard in his grin. At that point the bear was only a few yards from the snow banked structure.

A whistle broke the silence of the tent. Frostbite waited a second, and then heard a whistle in reply. The bear moved yet closer to the tent slowly, then with a sudden movement shed its skin and showed Blizzard, looking more then a little annoyed. The two men backed away from the opening, Frostbite holding the tent flap open for Blizzard to make his way in.

Blizzard stared hard at each man in the tent, and his gaze stopped on Frostbite. His expression did not soften in the least. "You are careless, I could have blown you all into hamburger easily." he said simply.

Frostbite, somewhat taken aback by the comment, did not reply. He met Blizzards gaze openly, not giving ground to the other man. It was well known in the ranks of the team that Blizzard was a hard man, a man not inclined to excuses. "I thought I trained you better then that."

Frostbite bit back a reply, and instead said only, "The men are tired, and we watched the pursuing Snow Serpents quit the chase. I looked the Cat over, and I didn't think it was safe to take it any further without risking permanent damage."

Blizzard was not having any such excuses. "Better to have left the vehicle here, and rested somewhere with better cover. For all you know this storm will continue for the rest of the week."

"And will it?" Frostbite challenged.

"No," admitted Blizzard. "It should break in the next hour or so."

"Then?" countered Frostbite.

Blizzard only grunted. "The Cobra presence here is much larger then we suspected." Frostbite nodded, having lost nearly all of the convoy to the larger Cobra forces. "How long will it take for you to get the Cat back in running order? We need orders to see if we are to continue with the mission, or scrub and go home."

Despite Blizzards known skill at winter survival, even he had to bow to the mechanical knowledge and skill when it comes to the Snow Cat vehicles that Frostbite possessed. No member of the team knew it better, and unlikely the engineers the designed it knew it any better.

"No more then an hour or so, but I am going to need some parts that I don't have in order to make it run the way it should. It has a miss in the fifth piston, and I think the gear ring for fourth gear is fried. It should be a simple fix, but I simply don't have the parts."

Blizzard nodded slowly. "When the storm breaks, head back toward the ambush site. I have already been there and seen the damage and the bodies. All three of the Avalanches were reduced to nothing but scrap, and one of the Snow Cats, but the other is structurally still somewhat intact. You might find what you need there."

"All three Avalanches? There were four in our group."

Blizzard nodded. "When I got to the ambush site the snow had already started. I tried to find the route that the last Avalanche went; it obviously did not go into the woods, as the path would be strewn with broken branches and other signs of their passing." At that point Blizzard looked sternly at Frostbite before continuing on. "But their trail was already hidden by the falling snow. It was coming down so heavily that even if I had found it, I could not have stayed on it."

With that Blizzard turned toward the entrance of the tent and pulled open the flap. The wind drove a blast of icy air and snow in before Blizzard let the flap close. With a hard look at Frostbite, he said, "You get these boys killed without finishing this mission; you better hope that you go down too. If you don't, then I will personally see you court marshaled and in so deep you couldn't get a job cleaning up penguin shit for Sea Planet."

With that, Blizzard left the tent and again donned the skin of the polar bear, becoming one with the woods and the snow.

"Asshole," muttered Frostbite.

With the storm having blown its self out, the men broke camp and ate a quick meal. Frostbite ordered the men to clean off the snow from the Cat and set about hiding the remains of their camp. He again checked the Snow Cat over, looking for anything he missed in the initial inspection. Once the Cat was clear, Frostbite hit the hatch release and the canopy rose. Taking the drivers seat, with Benson once again in the gunner's seat and the three troopers in their position on the back of the vehicle, Frostbite started the trip back to the ambush site.

They stopped before breaking the shelter of the woods. Using the comm., Frostbite ordered Hodges and Dawson to take the lead on foot. They dropped from the side of the Snow Cat and started forward in an easy jog.

Frostbite gave them about half an hour, time he, Benson, and Jackson spent changing the control module for the missile rack. With voices filled with static, Dawson reported that they were at the ambush site and everything looked clear. Firing up the Cat again, the engine sputtering and the transmission missing fourth gear, Frostbite set off for the site.

It only took a few minutes for them to reach the site. Most of the wreckage was covered in mounds of snow, looking like small hills. Dawson and Hodges have already cleared the shell of Snow Cat 2 and were tearing into it while keeping a watchful eye out for trouble. Frostbite pulled up beside the damaged Cat and exited his vehicle.

Walking to the front of the Snow Cat, he saw the canopy nearly shattered. The both the driver and the gunner were still inside. The driver had several wounds, and was badly burned. The gunner had a body full of shrapnel from when the consul exploded. Both were quite dead.

Of the four troopers that had been riding on the back of the Cat, only one was found. His body lay not far from Snow Cat 2, and was riddled with holes. The corpses of three Snow Serpents were near by. Apparently the man had sold his life dearly.

Hodges stepped in front of Frostbite, somewhat pale from the grotesque scene. "Sir, I request the honor of burial detail for these men. They deserve it, and deserve better then to be left for the scavengers."

Frostbite sighed. He knew that Hodges was right, but also that they did not have the time to bury all the dead on the battle field. "I'm afraid that can't take that time Hodges. We have a mission."

"But sir," started Hodges, "we can't just leave these men like this."

"And what would you have me do? Put the mission at risk for the sake of a few dead men?"

Hodges' face started to turn red. "You cold hearted bastard. Each of these men would have done you the honor of a decent burial. Is this how you repay their dedication? Is this what the Joe team is about, abandoning the fallen?"

Something deep down in Frostbite snapped. All the pent up anger and grief that came with loosing those under your command came bubbling up to the surface. "Listen here, you ignorant prick, each of these men knew the risks when they signed on. I don't want to leave them like this, but I don't have a choice. We were given a mission to fulfill and I'll be damned if I don't see it until it's through. And you have no idea what it is like to loose men under your command.."

Benson stepped between them at that moment, freezing Frostbite in mid sentence. They both just looked at Benson. As the youngest and most inexperienced of the group, it was obvious that he was hit the hardest by the carnage. His normally cheerful face was gaunt and haggard, his eyes bloodshot and sunken with weariness. When he spoke, it was low and slow, the voice not of a boy barely out of his teens, but of a wise and battle hardened man.

"We came here to accomplish a task. There will be time for a proper burial when the mission is through. Frostbite is right, we just can't take the time or the risk. We are exposed here, and vulnerable to attack. We have to get things fixed and get out of there as soon as we can. Hodges, you are right that these men deserve a hero's burial, but the time is not now. Each of them would understand that. If I fall in the action to come, then leave me lay until the time is right."

The calming words flowed over both Frostbite and Hodges, and both relaxed. With a last stare, both men turned and left for their duties. Benson sighed.

Hodges was checking over the Cat for usable ordinance, and found that the missile rack was full, and the ammo container for one of the cannons was still intact. He, Dawson, and Jackson carefully moved the missiles and mounted them on the working Cat's missile rack. Frostbite was busy pulling parts from the engine of Snow Cat 2 and checking them over carefully. The ones that he could used he handed to Benson and the others he tossed over his shoulder into an ever increasing pile of scrap.

It was nearly an hour and a half later when they finished reloading and retooling the engine of the Snow Cat. The repairs were at best adequate, and Frostbite hoped that she would hold together through the action that was to come. The targeting system for the missile rack was back working, but would blink out for a second before coming back on at random times. The vehicle was hardly combat ready, but it was all they had.

The five men gathered together, sitting beside the Snow Cat. Frostbite had been thinking of what to say and what direction they should head. It was obvious that they needed to radio in before attempting to go ahead with the mission, but also obvious was the fact that there was something major going on here if there was that much resistance. The team had to know what was happening in these cold and forbidding lands.


	2. Part 2

Of Ice and Flame Part 2

By TouchedByDarkness

The small band returned back to the area they had sheltered in before. Rebuilding the camp site the way it was before, the five men set about planning. After a long day of making and discarding plans, they stopped for some chow.

Banking snow in a cuplike shape, they took some branches and lit a small fire. The cold is death here, and there has been no sign of Cobra patrols. Benson was sipping some steaming coffee and staring to the flame.

"My grandfather was in World War II. He used to tell stories about it some times, and all of use boys would sit around listening. He talked about Iwo Jima and the death and dying all around him. When I told him I was enlisting, and that he inspired me, he just smiled and pulled me outside. He lived on a huge chunk of land back in Ohio, surrounded by woods. He took me out into the woods and didn't say anything. Then, I was confused, but now I know that there was nothing that needed said right then. When we came to a small stream he stopped and looked up at me thoughtfully. I think there were tears in his eyes. He said, and I will remember these words for as long as I live: 'War is hell, but it is a hell of our own making. We choose to take up a weapon against our enemies to defend what we believe in. I chose, those many years ago, to take up arms for our country. But I also did it for the world. Hitler had to be stopped. It was clear as that back then.'

Benson took another sip of the steaming coffee and took a deep breath. "He died not long after I completed basic. At the funeral, my grandmother came up to me, tears running down her cheeks, and gave me grandpa's Medal of Honor. Said that he always wanted me to have it.

"I have it still, stowed with the rest of my gear. I figure that with the medal with me, Grandpa is somehow watching over me. I like to think that he would be proud of me for making the Joe team. I like to think that he would be proud of me for sitting here, trying to find some way to fight the good fight, just like he did all those years ago,"

Frostbite looked up from his mug of coffee and looked at the younger mans face. It didn't have any of the lines that time and worries give, didn't have that shadow in his eyes that come with always being one step ahead of death. 'Was I ever that young?' thought Frostbite to him self. 'I must have been, I was not born with murder on my mind and a gun in my hand.'

Hodges smiled. "Something of the warrior poet are you Benson?" he joked.

Benson smiled absently, but said not a word.

"Is there someway to boost the power for the transmitter?" asked Dawson.

Frostbite thought for a moment. "Yes, but not with the equipment that we have. What are you getting at?"

"Well sir, I was thinking that if we upped the power on one of our transmitters, then we could get a signal out to HQ. I know that right now, with all the mountains around us, the signal can't get to one of the comsats."

"Go on," urged Frostbite. The rest of the troopers listened carefully.

"If we could find a working transmitter, boost the power using the charging system for the electronics, we should be able to punch out. It would only be able to send, but I think I can jimmy the circuits so it could send a repeating message out. That would at least update the base of out situation."

"No. Any transmission that we send out from here will be picked up by those belly crawling bastards at the base."

"True, but what if we send it in code?"

"We don't have any code system that can be used on such a rudimentary scale."

"Ahh, begging your pardon sir, but yes we do. Just after my induction into the team, I went out drinking with Mainframe and a few other inductees. By midnight, all the others were either passed out or staggered back to the barracks. At that point, Mainframe yelled out to the waitress, 'Woman, bring me some wings and a lot more beer! Oh, and some more people to drink it with, I'm tired of looking at this dickhead's ugly mug!' At the time he thought it was funny, but when he ended up wearing what was left of his drink when the waitress "accidentally" knocked it over into his lap, it stopped being so funny."

"Get to the point," said Frostbite.

"Well sir, I was thinking that if we used that as a message, the only one that could make heads or tails of it would be Mainframe. He should also be able to figure out the meaning."

"Dawson, you are ugly, but you are also a fucking genius. Now, the only thing we have to figure out is how we send the message."

Frostbite stood looking through binoculars at the squat building that housed the facility. He and Benson had scouted ahead, leaving the other troops back with the Cat. The facility had its back to a huge and steep slope, covered in jagged ice and frozen stone. A small lake had grown out of the ice toward the western side of the building. There were two small outbuildings, neither one large enough to house anything larger or wider then one of the large snow crawlers that were so often used for civilian facilities this far north. Either there was much more to the place then what the Joes could see, or all the vehicles were out on patrol. Knowing that was not likely, Frostbite really wanted a look inside one of those outbuildings.

Just as he was about to suggest a closer look, a shape rose out of the snow behind both of the Joes. Frostbite turned in time to see the barrel of a gun an inch from his nose.

"Bang," said Blizzard. Frostbite grinned.

"Something about being dead amusing?" asked Blizzard.

"No sir, just thinking that you missed something."

Raising an eyebrow, Blizzard was about to ask what Frostbite meant, when Frostbite pointed up and to the left slightly. Benson was positioned in a tree, hidden by cleverly packed snow and branches. Benson also had the muzzle of his sidearm pointed directly as Blizzard's head. Benson grinned.

"About damn time you people started paying attention," grumbled Blizzard. Benson, realizing that was about as close as Blizzard ever came to praise, nodded slightly, but did not drop his weapon.

Blizzard grunted and lowered his gun, and Benson replaced the sidearm in its holster. "Where have you been, you frozen bastard?" asked Frostbite.

"Watching this place," Blizzard replied simply. Apparently patrols come and go, three units out of five running at all times. The Ice Sabers and Wolfs would come out of the outbuildings one at a time. Blizzard guessed it was some kind of lift system similar to the ones used on aircraft carriers. Also, groups of ten Snow Serpents would march out the front door in formation and perform a walking patrol.

"We need a closer look. We have to know what they have before we even try to plan an attack. There is simply not enough of us, or enough firepower, to try to take this place without any idea what we are up against." Frostbite nodded slowly as Blizzard paused and thought.

"We have called for backup," started Frostbite, but was interrupted by a furious glare and the beginnings of one hell of an ass ripping.

"Hey, would you back the hell off for a moment and let me report? Thank you." Frostbite then updated Blizzard with all the information he had, including the coded message.

Nodding, Blizzard said, "Good. But we can't rely on the brass getting the message figured out in time for us. Cobra knows that we are here and it is just a matter of time before we either have to bug out or they get reinforced. We hit them pretty hard, and if they have that much of a garrison here, then something big is happening. Where are the other three?"

"Back at the Cat, hidden around three miles due south of here..."

Blizzard nodded. "I'm going in for a closer look."

"Hold on, you can't go alone. I'll go with you," said Frostbite.

"No, you are the only other surviving ranking officer, you have to stay back."

Frostbite nodded. "There is another storm brewing. It will be here in a couple of hours. If I am not back by then, then attack. Hit the outbuildings first, and then charge the main building. With luck, they will be too buttoned down against the snow to pay that much attention."

It had been snowing for over an hour now, and already four inches had accumulated. Frostbite slowly moved the Cat forward under the cover of the snow, keeping the engine in low gear and making slow process. The four troopers walked beside the Snow Cat, Benson and Jackson on the left and Dawson and Hodges on the right, all of them checking for some kind of alarm or proximity system.

They stopped around 300 yards from the facility. Frostbite targeted the nearest of the outbuildings with his missiles and fired one shot. With the sound of burning fury, the missile leapt from the rack like a speeding bullet. Flying straight for the side of the building, it raced on its suicide mission of fire and destruction. It impacted with violence and flame, pieces of sheet metal flying into the air a hundred feet to come crashing down in a rain of scorched steel.

At that moment, from behind the main building came two Wolfs and one Ice Saber, ready and waiting for the attack. The Ice Saber led the charge, and its cannons belched fire in the direction of the Snow Cat. Three of the troopers hopped up onto the back and Benson hit the release on the canopy and jumped in before the canopy was even fully raised. Cannon fire turned snow to water and water to steam all around the vehicle, and Frostbite gunned it. The rear treads dug in for traction and the Snow Cat jerked into motion, turning so that it faced head on the oncoming Cobra vehicles. Benson, operating the gunner's terminal, took aim in the Ice Saber and let loose with a missile and then a follow-up volley from the cannons. The missile missed, exploding to the right of the Ice Saber, causing it to tip for a second before coming back down. Before the driver could get it under control, the cannon blasts caught it to both the left and the right side of the tank, blowing off both cannons and the Snow Serpents ducking under them. A split second later, the engine blew, sending a fireball backwards and shooting the front of the vehicle into the air to land in a heaping mess upside down.

A Wolf fired its two ski missiles at the charging Snow Cat, the missiles going airborne for a moment before swooshing over the newly fallen snow toward the Cat. Swerving to the right to avoid the missiles, Frostbite shouted a warning for the other Joes to hold on. Nearly tipping over, the Cat sped up as it completed the 90 degree turn. "Benson, nail the main building with a couple of missiles!" shouted Frostbite, and Benson drew a bead on the large grey structure. He pulled the trigger and missiles 2 and 4 shot out of the turret and sped toward the building. The ground shook with the impact and a huge section of wall was blown away, causing another section to collapse in on its self.

Suddenly the Cat shook violently for a moment. Hodges came in on the comm. and said,"Sir, we just took a grazing hit on the right flank. Does not look like much damage, but I would suggest doing something different soon or we are so screwed."

"Working on it Hodges," muttered Frostbite into the comm. mic.

"Shit sir, that hit fried the targeting system." Frostbite muttered obscenely under his breath. 

Rounds from the auto-repeating guns on top of the lead Wolf splattered on the ground all around the Snow Cat. Benson, smacking the console with the palm of his hand swore. The monitor flared to life, but the targeting system was completely gone. "Benson, if you don't shoot something, we are going to become very dead very soon."

Benson closed his eyes for a second, taking a steadying deep breath, and then opened them again. With a calm and practiced eye, the sighted the closing Wolf and fired the remaining missile. The missile connected with the lower canopy and crashed through the glass before exploding. The last Wolf swerved around the flaming wreckage and sighted the Snow Cat.

Both vehicles were approaching a small hill, and Frostbite gave the Cat a bit more gas, praying that the engine would hold together. A missile streaked past then exploded just ahead and to the right of the Cat. Flicking the comm. switch with his thumb, Frostbite issued his orders. "As soon as we hit the top of that rise, I want everyone off the back. I am going to see if I can lead this bastard far enough away for you guys to do something useful." His tone of voice allowed for no argument and had a tinge of not fear but desperation.

The three troopers readied themselves for the leap off the speeding vehicle in time to see two more Wolfs approaching from the far right. Jackson shouted back to Dawson, "Man, we are so fucked!"  
Frostbite clamped down on the wheel and made for the incline. Just as the Snow Cat hit the base of the rise, a huge white and black tank topped the rise from the other side, its cannon blasting and missiles shooting out of its turrets. The fire shot past the Snow Cat and Frostbite glanced at the monitors in time to see the Wolf go up in a fireball.

A mine shot out of the launcher and skipped across the snow, bouncing up and just missing sliding under the front ski of the leader of the approaching Wolfs. The mine detonated and flipped the Wolf over, throwing the riding Snow Serpents well into the air. As the Snow Cat went airborne off the tip of the rise, the troops leapt free and rolled to get rid of the excess momentum. Slamming on the brakes as it hit the ground, Frostbite barely held on as the Cat slowed and turned back toward the rise with a snow and turf-throwing slide. The unexpected arrival of Cold Front in Avalanche 1 was a most welcome sight. The odds were against the last Wolf, so the driver turned and made back for the base.

The Cat crossed again the top of the rise in time to see the Scout Craft break away from the Avalanche and start gaining on the Wolf. It fired its two light missiles and they streaked down and nailed the Wolf in the back, sending fire all the way to the front of the vehicle, then it exploded in a fireball of its own.

A couple of minutes later the Snow Cat pulled up next to the stopped Avalanche just as the Scout Craft re-docked. The canopy of the Cat lifted and Frostbite jumped out. Cold Front also left his vehicle and grinned, leaning on his elbow against the front of the tank. Frostbite laughed, "Where the hell have you been, you skanky bastard?"

"It's a long story my friend, a long story. Why don't we get back in our tanks and go blow some shit up?"

Blizzard awoke to a throbbing pain in his head and a fire in his gut. He opened his eyes slowly, waiting for the pain to hit him again. He was not disappointed. His vision clouded for a moment, whatever image he had almost seen gone before he could focus on it. Breathing slowly and easily, Blizzard relaxed and let his vision clear.

He was in a cell, that much was obvious. A small plate of food stood in the corner, untouched. He slowly turned his head and looked around. It was somewhat dark, and the walls were smooth. A Viper stood outside, his back to the cell. 'Damn, just outside of arms reach,' thought Blizzard.

He slowly tried to stand, fighting off waves of vertigo to get to his feet. He grunted and was slightly doubled over, but leaned back against the cold walls. The Viper turned to regard him. His uniform was of the new style, but instead of the burgundy and black, it was white to reflect his artic post. His face was hidden behind his mask, a black assault rifle in his hand, and a black handled knife on a thigh sheath.

"Well, well. Sleeping Beauty is awake. I'll have to call the Geek and let him know." With that the Viper turned and walked over to a communications terminal. Blizzard straightened and felt around for broken bones. Everywhere hurt.

The Viper turned back to Blizzard. "Well, it looks like the Geek and the Doc want to see you. Want to introduce you to their new toy."

"Oh good," croaked Blizzard. "I like toys."

The Viper grunted and the door behind him opened and two more Vipers walked in. The first Viper punched in a number code on the communications terminal and the cell door slid open. Blizzard considered leaping out of the cell and attacking, but the two assault weapons pointing at him made him decide that would maybe not be conductive to a long life. He calmly walked out, trying hard not to wince with every step. A Viper took each arm, while the first Viper took up a place behind him, jabbing him in the back with the barrel of his gun just to make a point. 

They walked down a corridor. It was tight with the two Vipers on each side, but they were not about to let him go. Just a minute and a couple of turns later, the four entered a huge room filled with computer equipment. There was a round glass walled chamber in the center of the room, about five feet lower then the floor. From the brief glance he got of it, he saw dried blood all over the chamber. 

The Vipers led him over toward a small control room, sectioned off by glass. Monitors showed a variety of things, and many held a direct video feed from the center chamber. A bald man in a large white lab coat stood looking at a clipboard, and another man stood behind a huge bank of computer terminals. Cords of all shapes and sizes were connected to numerous places on his body, and a cable plugged into the space where one eye should have been. He wore a black armored shirt, with silver connections all over it and a red blinking light over his heart.

"I thought it was a little cold for you up here Dr. Mindbender," muttered Blizzard. Mindbender grunted and looked up from his clipboard.

"Ah yes. Blizzard. Artic instructor and general bad ass. We have quite a file on you." Mindbenders deep and slightly accented voice filled the small room, drowning out the whirring of computers and the occasional click of a button being pressed or a switch being thrown.

"Keep it up Mindbender; flattery will get you a quick death."

The man with the cables coming out of him looked up at Blizzard with a piercing stare. Mindbender just chuckled. The other man just looked back down at the screens.

"We have been working on a new toy Mr. Blizzard." Blizzard nodded. "We were wondering if you would be interested in helping us test it."

"Go fuck yourself."

One of the Vipers drew back to hit Blizzard with the butt of his assault rifle, but Mindbender shot the Viper a stern look. "You see Blizzard; we have been refining one of my favorite creations. My associate, Hardwired," he gestured over to the man with the cables coming out of him, "and I thought that the Battle Android Trooper was good, just not good enough. We fixed that problem."

Hardwired hit a few buttons on the terminal in front of him, and snakelike, a mesh cable with a syringe on the end of it started moving its way toward Blizzard. He started struggling with the Vipers holding him, even managed to get an arm free and punch one in the face, but it didn't solve anything. The Vipers armor took most of the blow, and then grabbed and held on to his swinging arm. "Relax Blizzard; it is just a serum to take your pain away. We want you in optimal fighting condition. After all, this would not be a valuable trial if you were hindered by past hurts."

Blizzard grunted as the needle sunk into his neck, pushing a liquid that at first burned like liquid fire but after the first brief moments of agony left him feeling almost normal. The mesh snake retracted into the shadows. Whatever had been in that needle, Blizzard now felt like he had not just been beaten unconscious but like he had just got back from his morning jog. A glass door opened. Mindbender gestured that Blizzard should enter. Looking around, again Blizzard calculated his chances against the three armed Vipers, the bald lunatic, and wire boy in the corner. 'Not good chances Natale, not at all.'

Shrugging slightly, Blizzard stepped down the stairs and down into the arena looking chamber. There was blood all around in the octagonal room, and a few random chunks of something that looked like they used to be polar bears. Dried blood had soaked into the dark sand that lined the floor.

Before the door closed behind him, at Mindbenders request a Viper threw in a .45 and a survival knife still in a black leather sheath. They landed at Blizzards feet, and like lightning he scooped up the pistol and turned to fire at the Vipers. He squeezed off two shots just as the door sealed shut. The bullets hit the glass and only scratched it. 'Well, this is interesting,' thought Blizzard.

"We have armed you, Mr. Blizzard; because we want you to have a fighting chance against our new BAT. I'm sure you have seen them in action, and despite all their improvements they are still mindless automatons. Well, we are here to fix that." With that, a section of the floor opened and a small elevator raised a BAT to the floor level. It stepped forward one step and the floor section slid closed.

"Initiate sub-routine Alpha Gamma 1," Dr. Mindbender said to Hardwired. The BAT suddenly fell into a crouch, arms up in a fighting stance. "You see Blizzard, what was once nothing more then a machine gun with legs, as your files called them, is now more of a warrior. We have converted aggression and instinct into data, and then downloaded it into an upgraded version of a BAT central processing core. Now, it can think, it can react, and it can anticipate your moves before you make them. And we also fixed the problem with them bursting into flames when hit from behind. Just thought that we should warn you."

The BAT started moving to the side, crouched low. Blizzard picked up the knife and tucked it into one of the pouches on his uniform. He matched the BAT, turning slowly while staring at the BAT. The new BAT units were color coded based on the environment they were placed in, however, this one was a dark maroon and tan, with gold highlights on its armored casing.

In a harsh and metallic voice, Hardwired spoke, "Doctor, we have a proximity alert. One Snow Cat class vehicle, four ground troops walking beside it."

"Bah, have the garrison commander work up a surprise greeting. I can't be bothered by such foolishness at the moment. Have him notify you of his success. If I hear from him with anything else, I will personally scramble his mind with my Brainwave Scanner and then dump him in the chamber for the BAT to finish."

Hardwired, nodded, and punched in a few buttons on a keyboard. He unplugged something from his right temple and replaced it with a yellow cable. A light started blinking on the upper left shoulder of the BAT.

Blizzard had had enough. He raised the pistol and took aim. He fired a single shot and it bounced off the chest armor. Raising his arm, he fired again. The bullet took the BAT dead center in the head. The BAT jerked its head back and to the side, then slowly, coldly, it turned to face Blizzard. It was barely scratched.

With a metallic buzz, its left hand changed shape and was replaced by a very nasty looking automatic weapon. A strange noise came out of the BAT, almost like a metallic growl, before it took aim and fired a burst at right where Blizzard had been standing until a moment ago. The bullets impacted on the glass side of the chamber they were in, bouncing off to skittering around on the floor. Blizzard used his momentum and dove forward and low, aiming to connect with the legs of the BAT. He hit the legs, but it felt more like colliding with two trees, as they had no give. He rolled away before the BAT could get a hold of him, coming to his feet to stab the knife savagely forward into the knee joint. The knife blade skittered off the armored joint harmlessly, barely scratching the paint.

Again, catlike, the BAT lunged to get a grip on Blizzard. He twisted himself painfully to avoid the grapple, as to get caught would mean his death. He grabbed at the metallic wrist and jerked forward trying to overbalance and topple the BAT. It snatched its hand back before Blizzard could close his fingers around it. Jumping to the side, Blizzard moved up behind the BAT and fired at almost point blank range, hitting the BAT right under and between where its shoulder blades would be were it human. The bullet sparked for a hundredth of a second and then imbedded its self in the loose sand.

The BAT didn't even register the shot as its elbow came rushing back to connect with Blizzards cheek. Blizzard tasted blood as he hit the ground from the force of the impact. He struggled to his knees and spat blood at the foot of the BAT.  
"As you can see Blizzard, this new series of BAT is quite impervious to harm. We have designed it to be a complete battle system, making your average Cobra trooper obsolete." Mindbender's voice came in over a speaker hanging at the top of the sealed chamber.

While Mindbender was speaking, Blizzard jumped to his feet and took several steps back from the BAT. Again it raised its arm to fire, and again Blizzard dove to the side as the automatic weapon splattered fire across the surface of the bulletproof glass.

Speed being his only advantage at this point, and even that would end as he grew tired, Blizzard knew he had to do something fast. The BAT had much more firepower then he did, not to mention that it didn't mind getting shot at. Blizzard did. Suddenly, he had an idea.

Taking a deep breath, he kept running around the perimeter of the glassed in arena, shifting directions whenever the BAT started to draw a bead on him. He was counting on it not being sophisticated enough to anticipate his position. "Come on Mindbender, this is hardly a fair trial. With that weapon, I don't stand a chance." What made it harder to say was the fact that it was true. This new BAT had nearly the same reflexes as a human and was much tougher. He stood no chance in Hell.

Suddenly the BAT stopped trying to lock in on Blizzard and instead stood still. "I suppose you have a good point there. Fine then, I will disarm its ranged weapons." Mindbender's voice held an edge of amusement, and he gestured to Hardwired. Hardwired pressed a few buttons on the control consol and then looked back up to one of the many overhead monitors.

Inside the glass arena, again there came a whirring noise and the automatic weapon was replaced by a long blade. The BAT stood straight, showing off its profile to Blizzard, and then turned to face the Joe. Again, it made a noise that could be nothing but a growl and crouched down to take an aggressive stance. The tip of the blade glinted evilly in the artificial light of the arena.

The BAT waved the blade back and forth slowly; the tip pointed in the general direction of Blizzard. The Joe was also crouched down, waiting to react to whatever move the BAT would make. He didn't have to wait long.

Lightning fast, the BAT struck, slicing the blade in an arc while charging forward. With only about a dozen feet of space between them, the BAT took almost no time at all to close the distance. Blizzard dropped down, rolling to the right just as the blade struck a deep grove into the glass. Coming to a stop on his back, Blizzard took aim and fired the pistol, aiming at the elbow joint. The single shot impacted inside the now slightly extended joint. The arm spasmed slightly before the BAT spun and brought the blade in a savage downward strike. Deciding in an instant that being there when the blade hits would not be a good thing, Blizzard again rolled to the right and came scrambling to his feet.

He lifted the knife blade in time to raise his knife against swinging blow meant to remove his head. His wrist exploded in pain on the moment of impact, but the dodge was successful in deflecting the attack. Its other hand snaked out and grabbed hold of the front of Blizzards uniform, lifting him to his feet.

Somehow Blizzard managed not to drop the knife or the pistol as he was slammed into the back glass by the BAT. It raised its sword blade up so the point was only inches from Blizzards throat. Blizzard could have sworn he heard the BAT chuckle.

Frostbite turned the Snow Cat so it was parallel with the holed wall of the main building. Small arms fire burst out from the rubble and connected with the armor of the Snow Cat with violent pings. The three troopers manning the back of the Cat positioned themselves using the Cat as cover, firing into the mass of rubble. Several Vipers and a few remaining Snow Serpents were hidden among the wreckage of the wall, firing from the cover of the cement and twisted metal.

Several abandoned their posts in the rubble when the Avalanche pulled beside the Snow Cat, its guns and missiles pointing toward the Cobras. A Viper in the uniform of an officer started shouting at the retreating men, and even shot one in the back, dropping him to the floor, dead before he hit the ground. This only made the fleeing troops run faster.

Cursing madly, the Viper officer returned to pouring fire at the Snow Cat. He paused for a moment, took aim, and fired. The shot blasted through Dawson's left shoulder, and he cried out in shock and pain. He rolled onto his back and slid down into the snow. When his hands hit the cold of the ground, his training took over and with his right hand reached down and opened up the pouch containing the mini med kit that all the Joes carried.

Cold Front in the Avalanche took aim at the pile of rubble. The Avalanche aimed its cannon into the wreckage and started firing, turning the rubble into flying shrapnel and dust. Screams of pain and fear filled the opening of the building.

A few of the surviving Vipers fired out half-heartedly, most running back down the halls. Jackson fired off a few rounds at one Viper and he collapsed into the dirt. The three remaining Vipers escaped into the apparent safety of the building.

Cold Front's voice filled the comm. net. "Let's level the God damned thing!"

"No!" shouted Frostbite into the mic. "Blizzard is still in there! He went out several hours ago to perform some recon and never came back. I'm sure that he was captured."

"How do you know? The snakes probably just caught him and killed him."

"Do you really want to take that chance?"

Frostbite heard Cold Front curse quietly. "No."

Benson left the cockpit of the Snow Cat, pulling out the full med kit from inside an inner compartment. He walked around the Cat and kneeled down beside Dawson. Without saying a word, he opened the kit and removed a small bottle of iodine. Dawson looked up at him and grinned through gritted teeth. "The bastard was not a bad shot for a snake."

"No, he wasn't. Let's take a look at that wound." Dawson pulled back the bloody gauze to show the bullet hole. It still bled, but not as bad as it had been. Benson cut the tip off the bottle of iodine with his field knife then stabbed the blade down into the snow and frozen soil. Pointing the end of the bottle toward the wound and squeezing, the inky liquid shot out of the bottle and all over the wound. Dawson winced, the iodine stinging.

Cold Front hopped out of his tank and walked over to where Frostbite was leaning against the front of his Snow Cat. "Well, if we can't blow it down, then we have to do inside. You ready for that?"

"Don't see as how we have much choice. We can't just leave him in their hands. If he still lives."

Nodding slowly, Cold Front walked over to the smoldering wreckage of the wall. Picking up the machine gun of a fallen Viper soldier and slinging it over his shoulder, he looked to the others and smiled a grim smile. Dawson, struggling to his feet with the assistance of Benson, met Frostbites eyes.

"Dawson, you and Pedros," he said, gesturing to the Joe that was standing in front of the upraised glass of the Scout Craft, "stay here and keep the tanks warm. You never know when we might have to haul ass."

Having split up into two groups, Jackson and Hodges with Cold Front and Benson with Frostbite, the Joes explored. Before entering, they scavenged what they could from the fallen Vipers and Snow Serpents, equipping themselves with grenades and assault rifles. Frostbite carried his trusty weapon in his right hand and the machine gun from a Viper trooper in his left. Benson was also well equipped, holding his standard issue Joe weapon and the white painted weapon from a Snow Serpent, as well as a bandolier of grenades.

For the most part, the facility was abandoned. It was obviously understaffed, as many of the rooms were not only empty, but also filled with dust and ice cold. Cold Front had reported heavier resistance, including a few BAT troops that were in various states of construction.

The pair came upon a corner, and as their pattern, Frostbite pressed his back against the wall and peeked around slowly. Two Viper guards were standing outside the door of a room. A flashing yellow light appeared above the door as the Vipers looked around cautiously.

Shouldering the Viper weapon, Frostbite looked back to Benson. Holding up two fingers, he then pointed to his scoped rifle, then back to Benson, signing that he should jump out and take out the second Viper. Benson nodded his understanding.

Dropping down to one knee, Frostbite moved the barrel of his gun up. Peering through the scope, he targets the head of the closest Viper. Only a tiny pressure on the trigger...

The Viper drops to the ground, a hole in his faceplate.

Benson jumps past Frostbite before the second Viper has time to react. With a short burst of fire, the second Viper drops to the ground with several bullet holes punched through his armor. Frostbite and Benson stepped toward the door, alert for any alarm in response to the gunfire. So far the only sounds that could be heard were the distant crackle of gunfire in some far off corridor. Cold Front was not exaggerating when he said that he was encountering heavy fire.

At a nod from Frostbite, Benson hit the door actuator. On the keypad a small red light flashed, and Frostbite swore bitterly. Kneeling down, he rolled over the Viper that he had shot in the head to check for any security badge or ID card. There, attached to a simple clip on his belt, was a white ID card. Frostbite ripped it free and stood, swiping the card through the card reader. A green light flashed, and after taking the shouldered assault rifle back in hand, Frostbite told Benson, "Hit it."

Benson pressed the actuator, and the door slid open. Frostbite charged in and seeing two men standing behind a large group of computer terminals and glass, opened fire with both weapons. Bullets impacted in a shower of sparks against the equipment, followed by the metallic shriek that came from one of the men behind the terminals. Benson jumped from behind Frostbite and was a bit more selective in his targeting. Taking a rough aim on the figure not screaming in agony, Benson fired of several shots. None of them hit, as the target took that moment to duck down behind the huge desk of equipment.

Frostbite stopped peppering the room and took a second to look around. In the center of the room was a large glass structure with what appeared to be someone wrestling with a BAT. "Blizzard!" shouted Frostbite. Dropping his spent weapons, Frostbite charged toward the opening.

Doctor Mindbender pressed his back against the base of steel computer desk. Pulling his pistol free from its holster, he turned to face the Joes. In the little extra room for thought that he had in his head, he wondered what had happened and how the hell the Joes had gotten in here. The last report had placed them at the other end of the facility. Mindbender reached into his lab coat and hit the button on a small device. In a dark corner of the room, a small and hidden door opened.

Frostbite threw open the door and charged into the glass arena. The BAT dropped Blizzard and turned to face the new threat. With a staggeringly powerful backhanded blow, the BAT sent Frostbite spinning off to the side. With three steps it was standing over Frostbite as he tried to rise and shake the cobwebs out of his head.

Seeing what was happening, Benson took his attention off Mindbender and slipped a new magazine into his automatic weapon. Stepping into the glassed off chamber, Benson fired off a single shot at the BAT in an attempt to get its attention. It worked.

Slowly and deliberately, the BAT turned to face Benson. It took one step toward him, then another. Benson grimaced and switched the gun to full auto, firing with his foot back to brace himself against the recoil. The steps of the BAT slowed as it was peppered with shots, each bullet bouncing off and impacting in the sand or against the glass.

The gun empty, Benson dropped it and pulled out the Cobra made weapon and switched off the safety. Firing again in full automatic, again bullets hit and bounced off. Behind the BAT, Frostbite managed to get to his feet. Seeing Benson's plight, he pulled his side arm and ran the several steps to the BAT. The Cobra weapon jammed on a spent shell, and Benson cursed wickedly.

The BAT raised its sword arm and brought it down in a mighty blow. Benson barely got the rifle raised in time to block the blow. Frostbite wrapped his arms around the BAT, shoving the pistol point blank against its head. The pistol went off, and the BAT jerked its head to the side. Raising its sword arm up, it spun at the waist all the way around and threw Frostbite again to the sand. It stepped one leg back and the other forward and its waist turned to face the same direction of its chest. Raising its sword again to strike down Frostbite, it paused as if to cherish the moment. Taking advantage of the hesitation, Benson charged into the room at the BAT.

Like lightning the BAT pivoted on its heel and thrust its sword hand forward, sliding the blade deep into Bensons gut and out his back.

A look of surprise flashed across Bensons face. His hands fell limp, and the ruined Cobra weapon fell to thump in the sand. Frostbite regained his feet in time to see Benson being lifted up off the ground by the massive strength of the BAT. Bensons face drained of color, but his eyes turned to Frostbite and he mouthed a single word. "Go."

Frostbite, realizing that there was nothing any of his weapons could do to stop the freakish BAT, glanced over to Blizzard. The artic trooper was stirring, trying to force himself up from the ground. Blood poured from several wounds on his face, and Frostbite could only imagine what kind of damage was done internally. 

Frostbite quickly went to Blizzard, shooting his eyes back toward Benson and the BAT. Benson pulled himself closer to the BAT, shouting curses as loud as his mangled body would let him. Frostbite noticed something in Benson's right hand. A grenade. One of those nasty bastards that would disable a tank. The pin had been pulled and only the adrenaline in Benson's veins kept the handle down. It would not last long.

Shouldering Blizzard and pulling him to his feet, Frostbite stumbled out of the glassed off arena and ducked behind a bank of computer machinery. The grenade detonated. Bulletproofed glass flew everywhere.

Opening his eyes, Frostbite pushed Blizzard off of him and checked for breathing. He was alive. Frostbite stood up slowly, using what was left of the computer equipment as support. Ignoring the glass shards and slashing metal fragments that were cutting into his hand, he managed to stand. With a shaky step, he moved slowly toward the ruin of the central chamber. Feeling a pain in his side as his right foot stepped down; he looked down and saw a large shard of glass sticking out of his side, just below his ribs. He gasped lightly, vision nearly blacking out before coming back with a haze around everything.

Slowly he walked toward the center of the arena. In the midst of the wreckage, the BAT laid in a smoking and sparking mess. Its armor was completely blasted away, as well as both of its legs and the sword hand. Frostbite watched as its optical sensors flashed in and out for a moment and then felt the one remaining hand close on his ankle. There was no strength left in the BAT.

Frostbite lowered the pistol he didn't even remember picking up and pointed it down at the head. Again, his vision started to fail him, but with several blinks and lots of concentration, Frostbite forced himself to focus. Once the BAT was clear again, Frostbite fired. And again. And again. Then he collapsed.

Epilogue

Frostbite sat in his wheelchair, his side aching as he stared down at the headstone. "William Allen Benson," it said. "The Best Kind of Soldier."

Another life lost in the fight against Cobra. Another life wasted in the fight against the ugliness of war. Benson had the makings of a great Joe, the best Joe. Now, there was not enough left of him to actually bury. Of course, like many of the graves in Arlington National Cemetery, there was no body under the stone. Benson's final resting place was the ground that he died on. The grenade didn't leave enough of him to even try to put together for a burial. Instead, Duke ordered the whole placed dropped. 

Frostbite was slipping back and forth between awareness and oblivion at that time. Lifeline had stabilized him at the field hospital and had him placed on the first transport home. Before he left, Frostbite had asked Flint to wheel him out to the site of the collapsed building. With great pain and even greater effort, Frostbite pushed himself to his feet. Knowing the look of a soldier saying good-bye to a friend, Flint left him to his peace and pain.

Taking shaky step after shaky step, Frostbite feel to his knees before a large piece of rubble.

Some time later, Lift-ticket walked over to stand next to Flint. He too knew what he saw, and also left the soldier in peace. Then, maybe twenty minutes later, Lift-ticket said something to Flint and Flint nodded.

With slow steps Flint walked up behind Frostbite and kneeled down beside him. Frostbite made no attempt to hide the tears that were streaming down his face, and Flint thought all the more of him for it.


End file.
